


the fall is worth the swim

by darlingwendy



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Flashbacks, The whole gaang is there, enemies to friends to almost lovers to enemies to friends to lovers, iroh owns the resort, katara is a lifeguard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingwendy/pseuds/darlingwendy
Summary: Resort!AU. Katara just wants to have a peaceful summer as a lifeguard at the Ember Island Resort, but Zuko's unexpected re-appearance throws all of that into disarray.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), minor: - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 101





	the fall is worth the swim

**Author's Note:**

> i texted my friend as a joke "what if zuko and katara worked together on some sort of summer resort?" and then i wrote over 10000 words...............anyway it only feels appropriate to truly give into quarantine and return to the person i was in high school. here's some fic. i haven't read it over i'll be honest!! hope u enjoy. the title is from "runaway goliath" by mantaraybryn

It’s the smell that hits her first. Sharp, unmistakable – the wave of chlorine washes over her and a thousand memories bloom in her mind’s eye. Katara can see herself at sixteen, climbing into the lifeguard’s chair for the first time, filled with the hopeful nerves of responsibility; and then again, a year later, jumping into the pool during the end-of-season employee party, splashing Toph, and how loudly the two of them had laughed together; and the middle of last season, when she and Aang had sat at the edge of the pool, their feet in the water, quietly dissolving their relationship. Katara stands in the doorway of the large, spacious room, arms folded, contemplating the place she’s come to consider a second home over the last two years.

Three of the walls are made of glass, cut with black beams, allowing the sunlight to stream inside and feed all of the plants the owner, Iroh, has lined around the edges of the room. It feels like a tropical jungle with all the lush leaves, blooming flowers, and creeping vines that lace over, under, and in between the large clay pots and planters. The pool, of course, is the centerpiece. It’s gigantic. At the bottom is a large mosaic, depicting the symbols of all four nations. Rarely does Katara get to examine it without the distortion of the pool or the many splashing guests, but it is beautiful, a sprawling piece, each color used to its fullest, each symbol of equal size, craftsmanship, care. _It inspires harmony,_ Iroh had once told her. _A way for us to remember that we are all better together._

_Not all of us,_ Katara thinks, another unwelcome memory tugging at the ends of her consciousness. She doesn’t want to start the season crushed under the weight of what happened last year – she shakes her head, as if she could clear the memory like a cobweb, and steps inside the room. Nothing clears her head like work.

Getting the indoor pool ready for guests is one of Katara’s favorite activities. It’s a rite of passage, she thinks, moving from the stodgy schedule of the academic year to the independence and fluidity of the summer. Every day, a little different, presenting its own challenges and monotony against the backdrop of the beautiful Ember Island resort. She always starts with the pool. Katara rarely bends on this large of a scale, and the opportunity to test herself, to see how much she can control, is a gift in and of itself. She stands at the edge of the empty pool, setting her bag down, taking off her outer clothes until she’s left in her lifeguard’s uniform, her second skin. She smiles with anticipation, curling her toes against the cool stone of the pool’s edge. Her eyes close, and she listens. _There._ The water roils inside the pipes of the room, eager to greet her. Who is she to deny it? Without hesitation, she moves, settling into the familiar position, shifting her weight, and drawing her fingertips across her heart. She whips her wrist and the water shoots out, arcing through the room to whirl around her. She can’t help it. She laughs, unadulterated joy and relief rushing through her.

Katara feels best around water. The flask she carries at her hip during school is a small comfort, but pales in comparison to living on the resort. Here, she is surrounded by the element. It hangs in the air, waves in the pools, clings to the guests and employees alike. She understands how Toph never feels hindered. When she’s surrounded by water like this, she feels nearly invincible. She shifts her weight, drawing her arms close, and the water surrounds her. Her body floods with relief – it’s like she’s released a breath she’s been holding for months on end without noticing. The tension in her body melts. She shifts, pushing her palms out, and the water carries her from the edge of the pool to the inside it, where she stands and lets the water crash around her. For a moment, she’s completely submerged. It’s wonderful. She pushes off from the stone floor and swims upwards, breaking through the water’s surface and swimming to the edge. Bending exhausts her in the most rejuvenating way. She pulls herself out and lays back on the cool stone of the pool room’s floor, staring up at the ceiling. She’s got a lot left to do, but for a moment, she just rests, enjoying the sound of the pool water lapping against the edges.

Next comes the locker rooms. There are three: two for guests, and one for employees. She starts with the guest locker rooms first, ensuring they’re well-stocked with necessities and delicacies, like bathrobes for the adjoining steam rooms. Once she’s sure they’re up to standards (and a little above), she moves into the employee locker room, carrying her bag to stash in her assigned locker. There’s less to do in this room, but Katara takes extra time, scribbling notes and dropping them into her fellow lifeguard Suki’s locker, laughing quietly to herself. She’s in the middle of rummaging for a towel – it never occurs to her to carry her own, not when the resort’s main export is towels – when she realizes someone is standing in the doorway. She turns, expecting to see Suki or perhaps her brother, Sokka, trying to figure out where she is before lunch, but unfortunately, it’s neither.

“Hey, Katara.” Zuko’s voice runs up her spine like a shiver. Her grip on the towel tightens, and she has half a mind to fling it in his direction, watch it smack into his chest, storm away before he could get another word in. She does none of it. Instead, she clutches the towel close to her chest, trying to slow her hammering heart. He looks nearly the same. His hair is a little longer, his shoulders more relaxed, but his gaze still pierces into her with an honesty she’d only seen once before. It curdles in her gut.

“Get out.” 

**

“You told him to get out?”

Suki rests her elbows on the table, leaning in to hear Katara better over the din of the dining hall. Toph follows suit, her grayed green eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I can’t believe you’d yell at Iroh’s nephew. That’s pretty bold, especially for you, sugar queen.” Toph grins, resting her chin in her hand. “Wish I could’ve seen his face.” Katara rolls her eyes at the familiar nickname, trying not to remember how Zuko had looked. He’d been so stunned, but worse, so _accepting._ He’d just turned and walked away.

“I didn’t know what else to say. I just couldn’t believe he was there.” Katara says, absentmindedly tugging at the end of her hair, a crease appearing between her eyes.

“Couldn’t believe who was where?” Sokka slides into the seat next to Suki, slamming down his lunch tray and throwing his arm over his girlfriend. Instinctively, Katara glances over at Toph, seated across from her. When they’d first started working, Katara had been certain that Toph had harbored a small crush on her brother, but to Toph’s credit, Sokka and Suki’s relationship never seemed to irritate or hurt her. She handles it gracefully – at least, as gracefully as Toph handles anything.

“Katara saw Zuko in the locker room,” Suki says, turning to press a kiss to Sokka’s cheek before reaching onto his tray, snatching a plum slice and popping it into her mouth. Sokka hardly notices – he’s too busy staring at his sister, eyes wide at first, and then narrowed.

“He didn’t try anything, did he? I’ll skewer and roast him for the barbeque tonight! I don’t care how important he is!” Sokka emphatically points with his fork, then stabs it into the roast steaming on his tray.

“Sparky? Please. He probably took one look at Katara and started shaking in his fancy shoes.” Toph says, reaching over and taking another of Sokka’s plum slices. He frowns, Suki laughs, and Aang arrives, sliding into the empty seat next to Toph.

“What I miss?” He asks, looking at the group with bright eyes. Katara gives him a small smile, and he returns it with a grin of his own. Once again, Katara is filled with gratitude. She’d been so worried the ending of their relationship would have made things tense or uncomfortable, but Aang’s adaptability is one of the things she admires most about him. Toph leans in begin to – dramatically – relay the events of Katara’s run-in with Zuko, and Katara is about to join in when she sees him, across the room, nervously entering the cafeteria. He tugs on the end of his shirt, looking like he wishes the floor would open and swallow him whole, when suddenly Katara realizes – he isn’t just wearing a shirt. He’s wearing a uniform. The Ember Island Resort staff uniform.

“He works here?!”

All eyes at the table lock onto Katara, and then, like a well-choreographed farce, follow her gaze. Without subtlety, they all watch as Zuko grabs a tray and moves to stand at the back of the line, doing a very good job of pretending like all eyes in the room aren’t on him. In her periphery, Katara can see almost everyone else in the cafeteria leaning in across their own tables, trying to subtly gesture toward the firebender. She doesn’t turn to get a better look at any of her fellow employees. She can’t tear her eyes away from Zuko. He’s wearing a uniform. He works here. He moves forward in line, and for a moment, he risks a look into the crowded cafeteria. His eyes meet Katara’s, and any hopes she had of a peaceful summer evaporate.

**

_Katara was late. She hated being late. It made her feel seasick, roiling through her blood and transforming her into a frantic, irritable hurricane. Somehow, she’d managed to sleep through both of her alarms, waking fifteen minutes before her first shift at the resort twenty minutes away. She’d flown out of bed like a wolfbat, tearing her room apart to change into her uniform and gather the things she needed, barreling down the stairs and snatching a piece of bread out of the cabinet, not even bothering to toast it. She’d shoved the bread into her mouth as she ran down the streets, hair an untamed mess, billowing behind her. She was turning the corner into the pool room, hoping she’d be able to sneak through the crowd, unnoticed, to drop her things off when – she slammed right into someone trying to walk through the same door. Katara nearly fell backwards, but a pair of hands reached out, grabbing her by the shoulders and righting her. She took a step back, prepared to apologize and move past the boy who she’d run into, but his face curled with distaste. He had clearly taken in her uniform, and in the moment, she noticed what he was wearing: the rich crimson of the guest robes, a golden towel slung around his shoulders. His hair was pulled away from his face in a tight bun, which only served to make the lines of his face more severe and highlighted a burn scar that surrounded one of his eyes._

_“You should watch where you’re going,” he said, contempt and arrogance ringing through his flat tone. Pride incensed her. She knew she’d been rushing, but he hadn’t stopped before running into her, either. Any apology she’d been planning to make died on her tongue. Perhaps, if she’d been on time, if she’d been in a better mood, she’d have said sorry. Maybe if he wasn’t using the slight height difference between them to look down on her as if she was miles beneath him, she’d have let his attitude slide. But there was something about the way he looked, as if he expected her to thank him for not getting her fired on the spot, made Katara aware of the water in the room, how easy it would be to slide back into a comfortable stance and snatch his ankles out from underneath him. Not to mention the three girls standing behind him, all looking at her with a combination of disinterest, curiosity, and disdain._

_“So should you,” Katara retorted, her embarrassment crystalizing into anger. She adjusted her duffle bag, shouldering past the boy and his friends, not caring if she or her bag bumped into him in the process. Later, maybe, she’d regret being so callous with a guest, but she didn’t want to stand and kowtow to a person who clearly had spent his whole life making people quake before him. Who did he think he was? His status as a guest didn’t make him better than her. It just made him wealthy – specifically, it made his family wealthy. Wealth couldn’t buy manners. That was clear. As she pushed passed him, she heard him release a huff of indignation._

_“You’re going to regret that!” He called after her. She had the dignity not to turn around, though her hand curled, water flying out of the pool and wrapping around her fist. The motion was enough to soothe her, and she stormed towards the locker room, ignoring the laughter of one of the girls behind her. Later, after she’d apologized profusely to Suki for being late, she asked the older girl about the insufferable guest. Suki had laughed, reaching over with a mixture of sympathy and amusement._

_“That was Zuko. He’s Iroh’s nephew.”_

**

Katara steps back into the indoor pool room, taking an extra moment to glance around. She doesn’t want a repeat of the morning. Being caught off-guard makes Katara feel foolish, and she’d like to make it through the summer without feeling that way again. Thankfully, the room appears to be empty, and she allows herself to relax. She begins to walk the perimeter of the pool, aware of the water, but letting it roll in the pool. Tomorrow, the room will be filled with guests: their mindless chatter, their running feet, their shouts of delight and warning as they scamper, climb, play. Katara doesn’t mind the noise. It reminds her of home. Water brings people together, and she’s more than happy to facilitate their safety around the most holy part of her. Water holds memories, brings life, scatters sunbeams like joy and vice versa. She’s grateful, at least, for the peace of mind that the pool will bring her this summer. Zuko may be floating around, a piece of the ecosystem, but she can keep her distance. She can return to her safe places: her room on the resort, the indoor pool after hours, the beach in the early morning. One person is not going to ruin her summer. She won’t let him. Not again. She stares at her reflection in the pool, examining the face that looks back at her. She’d been standing here, last summer, but she hadn’t been alone. For a moment, his face appears in the pool next to hers, all the cruelty and pain melting away, and then--

“There you are!”

Suki’s voice brings Katara back from the past. She blinks. Her reflection in the pool is alone. The water moves and distorts her features, and Katara looks away, turning towards Suki with a sheepish smile. _So much for not getting caught off-guard,_ she thinks. She prides herself on her unbreakable focus, but ever since the interaction this morning, and seeing Zuko again in the cafeteria at lunch, she can’t stop running over old memories, like a tongue runs over the gap of a lost tooth, mystified by the loss, anticipating the arrival of something new. Suki shrugs away the apology written on Katara’s face and returns Katara’s sheepish smile with a friendly one of her own.

“What were you thinking about?” Suki asks, crossing the room to close the distance between them. Katara takes a few steps away from the edge of the pool, meeting her friend in the middle. She’s once again reminded of her bounty, the close friendships she has woven around her, and she can feel the tension of memory fade. Suki has always been a welcome presence in Katara’s life, ever since they’d met on the job. Suki had trained Katara – though often, the older girl would joke that she had very little to train Katara on – and the two of them had spent hours together that first summer, laughing and working and growing closer. Katara had never had an older sister – or a major female presence in her life, really – and she is so grateful for Suki’s friendship, for the easy confidence Suki exudes, the way Suki softens Sokka and encourages everyone around her. Katara is thankful. At the very least, her shifts with Suki will give her something to look forward to, a space to debrief about – whatever might happen this summer.

“Nothing productive,” Katara replies. She brightens her smile. “What did you need me for?”

For a moment, Suki’s bright expression falters. Her smile slips from friendly to apologetic, and Katara frowns. Suki lifts a hand to the back of her neck, her usually steady gaze flickering around the room with embarrassment. Katara wants to take another step toward Suki, but dread has frozen her feet to the ground. Something’s not right.

“Suki?” Katara’s voice wavers. Suki throws her hands up in the air, but her reluctance to make eye contact with Katara gives her away. Something’s _definitely_ not right.

“Don’t get mad!” Suki starts, her hands swinging around to clasp behind her. “It wasn’t my decision. I didn’t know it was going to happen, seriously, Katara, if I had I might not have said yes--”

“What are you talking about?” Katara interrupts. She shakes her head, combing through Suki’s words for some kind of clarity. In the back of her brain, a picture is forming, but she refuses to allow it to solidify. She won’t even think about it. She’s being paranoid, she knows it, she’s just thinking about – _him_ – because of all the weird energy of the day. She pushes the thought away, tries to focus on Suki.

“Iroh gave me a promotion.” Suki says it like an apology. Katara’s brow furrows. “I’m the head lifeguard.”

“Suki, that’s wonderful. Why would I be mad about that?” The knot in Katara’s stomach softens, and her brow relaxes.

“Well, it means I’ll have different shifts.” Suki says quietly. Katara’s stomach drops, and disappointment settles in the hollow of her throat. “And you’ll have to train someone new.”

“Oh.” She says quietly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She takes in a deep breath. _It won’t be so bad,_ she thinks, re-centering herself. She’ll still be able to see Suki around the resort, and after hours, and at all the parties. She’s about to open her mouth to say as much, to reassure her friend that she won’t be getting rid of Katara that easily, when Suki’s mouth presses together. Katara’s eyebrows knit together again, and she realizes there’s one crucial piece of information she’s missing. “Who am I training?”

Suki reaches out, putting her hands on Katara’s shoulders. She stares into Katara’s eyes, and before she speaks, Katara realizes what she’s about to say. The picture in the back of her mind materializes – except, it’s not just a picture in the back of her mind. There really is a figure in the doorway behind Suki. He’s sheepish, taking up as little space as he can, head down in an attempt to give them as much privacy as possible. Katara blinks once, twice, hoping that he’ll disappear like a reflection in the pool, but he stubbornly remains solid, whole, present in front of her.

“Him?” Katara whispers. Somewhere, within, she knows she’s being dramatic, but her entire body wants to recoil, or fight, flee to the locker room or wrap herself in all the water of the pool. Suki tightens her grip on Katara’s shoulders.

“I said you couldn’t get mad,” Suki says, her mouth twitching with amusement. Katara rolls her eyes, shaking Suki’s hand off her shoulders and taking a step back.

“I’m not mad,” Katara grumbles, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be fine?” She glances over Suki’s shoulder, to where Zuko is standing, shifting his weight from one foot to another. She can feel the tension returning to her shoulders, and her jaw clenches. He looks up, then, catching her eyes from across the room. A part of her wishes he still had the arrogance in his eyes, the fire of unchecked rage smothering something else, any reason to feel justified in her annoyance at his presence. She sees none of it now. _Something’s changed,_ she thinks. There’s a jumping in her chest, but she squashes it, reminding herself of the last time she believed something had changed within him. _I’ll be better this time,_ she thinks. _I won’t get tricked again._

Katara looks away, seeking solace in Suki’s face, and Suki smiles. Katara wants to water whip her, but she resists. There will be time for that later. Instead, Katara rearranges her face into one of neutrality. She can be a professional. She isn’t a child anymore, nor a gullible young woman who wants to believe that people can be changed with kindness. Zuko deceived her once. She’s not going to let it happen again. If she’s going to train him, she can do it at a distance, with civility, not kindness.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it.” Suki says, beginning to back away. Katara shoots her a look that she hopes communicates what she’s thinking: _we_ will _be talking about this later._ Suki smiles, again, giving Katara a little wave before sliding past Zuko in the doorway, leaving the two of them alone. The air is heavy. Katara thinks of a thousand things she could say. All the questions she was left with last summer buzz in her brain, nearly make it to her mouth, but she doesn’t want to beg, plead, draw answer she can’t even trust. Instead, she takes him in, observes him in an unnatural habitat. He’s made one step into the large pool room, and she watches as he takes in the room. It’s as if he’s seeing it for the first time. _Maybe he is,_ she thinks. She doesn’t know if he’s ever spent a summer here as anything other than the entitled nephew of the owner. She doesn’t plan on finding out.

“Lifeguard training is easy,” she says, pleased with the way he jumps at the sound of her voice. “Don’t let anyone drown.”

**

_Her second year granted Katara more confidence and more responsibility. Suki had even put in a good word with Iroh, and now Katara had the opening shift all to herself. It wasn’t an exciting shift – it usually took until noon for the guests to drag themselves out of their plush beds to come splash around – but Katara didn’t mind. A whole lifeguard shift to herself. The responsibility made her stand taller. She bore the keys around her neck, and in the mornings, she’d spare a glance in the mirror, admiring the way the keys complemented her mother’s necklace. She practically floated from her room to the pool, appreciating the relative silence of the resort this early in the morning. The colors of the sunrise were beginning to fade into the soft blues and yellows of the day, casting everything in a pastel shimmer. Katara approached the door to the pool, pulling the key from around her neck. She was surprised to discover that it was already open. Her brow furrowed as she pushed the door inward, making a mental note to ask Suki who was in charge of closing the pool at night. Leaving the door open was dangerous – a guest could wander in without any supervision, they could cause damage to the indoor garden or to themselves, leaving the resort and Iroh with a huge liability case on their hands. Katara was so absorbed in the horrible things that could happen if the door was left open overnight that she nearly missed the reason the door was open in the first place._

_Someone was doing laps in the pool. Katara froze in the doorway, trying to catch a glimpse of their face, remembering what Suki had told her about confronting guests who were doing something wrong._ Make it about their safety, _Suki had suggested. Katara was prepared to launch into a diatribe about swimming without a lifeguard on duty when the figure reached the side of the pool closest to the door, coming above water for a moment. They locked eyes. Katara felt all of her carefully gathered decorum leave her in a moment. It was Zuko, Iroh’s absolutely intolerable nephew._

_“You’re not supposed to be here,” Katara blurted, folding her arms across her chest. Zuko huffed, rolling his eyes and resting his arms against the wall of the pool._

_“I’m allowed to be here. My uncle owns the place.”_

_“Yeah, I know. You and your sister have made that very clear.” Katara was sure her annoyance was written all over her face, if not ringing clear in her voice. “Just because your uncle runs the place doesn’t mean you can break the rules whenever you want.”_

_“I think that’s exactly what it means.”_

_Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. As she crossed the room to the lifeguard’s chair, she glanced around the room, noting they were the only two inside. At the very least, he was the only rulebreaker she’d have to deal with this early in the morning. It was strange, though. She’d never seen Zuko alone. He was usually skulking in the background of Azula’s cruelty, a shadow against the brightness of her burning. Here, alone, he just looked like a boy, not an accessory to malice. She frowned, pausing at the bottom of the chair, dropping her bag, and turned towards him._

_“Where’s the rest of your group? I didn’t think you were allowed to be anywhere Azula wasn’t.”_

_“My sister is not the boss of me!”_

_Her eyebrows raised at the sharp dagger of his voice. She’d struck a soft spot. There was something else in his voice, though, rumbling underneath the general annoyance of being a younger sibling. Something close to…fear. That didn’t make sense. Sokka annoyed Katara, constantly, but she was never afraid of him. He protected her, made her feel safer, even. Was Zuko afraid of Azula?_

_“Sorry I asked.” Katara responded, one eyebrow arching. Zuko huffed, but instead of retorting, he simply pushed back into the pool, diving underwater. Katara pressed her lips together but decided to drop the subject. He was still technically a guest. She was still technically on the clock. She moved around the room, going through her mental checklist of things that needed to be done to officially open the pool, and once she was finished, she had no other option but to climb into the lifeguard’s chair and sit watch while Zuko swam._

_They spent the rest of the morning in silence._

**

The first week is almost unbearable. Every time Katara arrives at the pool for one of his training shifts, Zuko is already there, no matter how early she tries to make it. He listens carefully as she walks him through the routine of coming on shift, the best strategies for wrangling guests, the slipperiest spots in the room. He asks a question now and then, but it’s always professional. He never tries to make small talk. They mostly spend their shifts in silence. Every so often, Katara will blow her whistle to warn a running child, but it’s the most noise that passes between them. Katara can’t help but feel like he’s being quiet on purpose. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for her to be the first one to break. Her annoyance grows.

_Don’t hold your breath,_ she thinks. _Or do._

What makes it worse is everyone else’s attitude towards Zuko. Once the initial shock wears off, curiosity overtakes whatever ill will her friends were holding onto. The rest of the employees feel the same way. One lunch, Katara walks up to the table to hear Aang describing how helpful Zuko had been during tour preparation.

“He told me about some old hot spots I never knew about! The old ladies loved it. I really owe him one.” Aang is beaming. Toph sits to his left, casually bending the meteorite bracelet Sokka crafted her last year into various shapes. When Katara sits down across from her, next to Sokka, Toph molds the rock into an approximation of a flame.

“What, he gives you one good tip and suddenly he’s employee of the year?” Katara says, aiming for casual and landing somewhere near bitter. From the other side of Sokka, Suki leans over, raising an eyebrow.

“Has training him been that bad?” She asks, concern wrinkling the space between her brows. Katara shakes her head reluctantly, picking up her chopsticks and moving the vegetables on her plate around.

“No. I mean, he’s been quiet. Like, _really_ quiet. It’s starting to freak me out. I think he forgot how to talk.” Katara responds, spearing a piece of broccoli and bringing it to her mouth. “But he’s managed not to get anyone killed, so I guess he’s an okay lifeguard.”

“I’d hope so,” Suki chirps, a laugh building in the back of her throat. “He asked to be on lifeguard duty, from what Iroh tells me.” Katara nearly chokes on the broccoli.

“Iroh is such a gossip,” Toph says, a grin blooming across her face. “I love it.”

“Takes a gossip to know a gossip,” Suki shoots across the table, the smile on her face coloring her words with a good-natured teasing. Toph laughs.

“It’s not my fault people think I’m deaf, too! You’d be surprised what people will say around landscapers.”

“Anyone mentioned what Zuko is trying to do here?” Katara says, swallowing the murderous vegetable. Toph shakes her head.

“Not yet. From what I can figure out, he’s really just here working. Clocks in and out like the rest of us.” Toph shrugs, makes her bracelet back into a bracelet, and sneaks a piece of sweetbread off Aang’s tray.

“He’s up to something. I just know it.” Katara fumes, scowling into her rice.

“He’s one of us now,” Sokka says, “whether you like it or not.” _He’ll never be one of us,_ Katara thinks, wishing her emotions liked to be expressed in any other mode but tears.

_He’ll never be one of you._ She jumps. The memory of Azula’s voice is so clear in her mind, it’s almost as if she’s there. Katara can’t help but spare a glance around the cafeteria, but Zuko’s sister is nowhere to be seen. She takes in a deep breath to calm herself, focusing on her lunch tray, the sounds of her friends’ voices, anything to keep the memories of last summer at bay. The last time she’d seen Azula, the older girl had shot Katara with a gaze that pierced her right to the core. Katara wasn’t afraid of Azula. She was just afraid of what Azula could do.

“Hey, you okay?” Sokka nudges her gently with his shoulder, his voice lowered so the others couldn’t hear. Katara looks up at him, giving him a half-shrug.

“Just trying to adjust,” she says. He gives her a smile, and another nudge with his shoulder, and she returns it, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Even when Katara wants to sulk in her feelings, Sokka is always there to pull her out. She’s grateful. Though they rarely agree on anything, she knows she can count on him to have her back when it matters. Like now.

“Here he comes,” Sokka mutters, elbowing Katara in the side. She glances up to see Zuko entering the cafeteria. Her whole body stiffens. Her heartbeat picks up as her stomach drops and she silently pleads with whatever spirits are listening that he won’t turn her way. The spirits seem to have abandoned her this summer. He looks right at her. Toph waves in the general direction of Zuko, and so does Aang. Katara just stares. She’s not really sure what she wants him to do. _Go away,_ she thinks. _Sit with us._

She breaks her gaze, staring back down at her tray, and she doesn’t look up again until Sokka gives her the all-clear. Katara risks one more glance around the cafeteria. Zuko is sitting alone at a table on the other side. For a moment, she almost feels guilty. She shoves the feeling away and tries to rejoin the conversation, ignoring the siren call of Zuko’s silence from across the room.

**

_The rain outside the windows sounded like a thousand whispers. Storms always made Katara feel cozy. It reminded her of childhood, when her mother would build a blanket fort in the living room and they’d exchange scary stories by candlelight. Now, her fingers strayed to her necklace, the stone smoothed over years of yearning for a simpler time. She stared out the window. It was one of those summer storms, where the sunlight sparkled in the space between each raindrop and the water hit the ground and turned into steam. It would pass quickly, as all summer storms did, but for the moment, it was nice to enjoy the sounds of the rain mixed with the familiar splashing of Zuko’s swimming._

_They’d fallen into a strange routine, he and her, each meeting in the morning. Zuko would swim, and Katara would watch, or bend, or read. Slowly, over the days, their verbal sparring softened into silence, and then into the beginnings of conversation. Alone, in the early morning, she and Zuko had planted the tentative seed of friendship. She hadn’t told anyone about it – she wasn’t sure how Aang would react to her friendship with the terror of the resort, and she certainly didn’t want to hear Sokka’s endless protective-older-brother schtick. Even Suki didn’t know. Katara’s hand smoothed over the cloth of the necklace once again. Not for the first time, she wished her mom were around. She’d know how to decipher the strange feelings swirling inside Katara without making her feel stupid._

_“What are you thinking about?”_

_She glanced away from the windows to the pool, where Zuko was leaning against the edge, arms folded on the concrete, his curious gaze turned towards her. She felt a warm flush color her cheeks. The last thing she wanted to say was the truth, but she didn’t want to lie._

_“My mom.” That was honest, at least, if only partially. It was a step in a new direction. They hadn’t yet broached into personal topics like mothers. Katara tried to avoid bringing it up outside of her immediate circle. Even though her mother’s absence was always on her mind, she felt strangely ashamed of how much space grief took up in her mind. Even saying the words out loud to Zuko made her eyes burn, her throat clench, the immediate predecessors to tears. She blinked once, twice, not wanting him to see her cry. He was still Zuko._

_“I miss my mom, too.” The softness of his voice surprised her. His gaze flickered to the floor in front of him, and his fingers began to trace mindless patterns with water. She could see them, even from her perch, small dragons soaking on stone. “She disappeared when I was young.”_

_“Disappeared?” Katara couldn’t stop herself. Disappeared was the mouth of a dark cave. She missed her mom, terribly, but she’d never considered the possibility of uncertainty. It must have eaten him alive. She stared at him. His gaze was still on the floor. Suddenly, he seemed mortal. He’d carried himself with the armor of his family name, even through their early mornings, the stiffness in his spine a reminder of how untouchable he was. But now, speaking about his mom, he'd let it go._

He trusts me, _Katara thought suddenly._

_“Yeah. One night, she was in an argument with my father. She came to tuck me in and then the next morning, she was gone. Nobody would tell me what happened to her. Azula…” He trailed off. She could see his shoulders tightening, his hands curling into a fist. “Anyway. Azula has always taken after my father. I was…like my mom.”_

_“It must have felt really lonely after you lost her.” Katara’s stomach sank. She had felt so isolated after her mother died, but she’d had her father, and Sokka, and the entirety of the tribe. Not for the first time, Katara didn’t envy Zuko’s family wealth, the tall ceilings of his empty home. He just nodded, his head turned away from her, towards the windows. She followed his gaze. The storm was beginning to slow, the torrential rain more of a drizzle, giving the sunlight more room to shine. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Later, Katara would mark that as the first blossom of friendship. Now, she’s just thinking about the warmth in the room. Zuko broke the silence._

_“Azula’s on a business trip with my father. He takes one every year, and every year he tells me I’m not ready. I haven’t proven myself.” One of his hands reached up for his scar, and she realized she wasn’t the only one carrying around the memory of her parents. Anger roiled through her. What kind of father attacked his son? “Working alongside my father is what I’ve always wanted.”_

_“Why?”_

_“It’s my destiny.” He spoke as though he was fighting for control. Katara wished she could see his face. There was so much he couldn’t hide in his eyes, but it was as if he knew, and he kept his gaze out at the window. They both watched the storm leave as quick as it went, quiet as a flame being blown into smoke, the only proof it had ever passed the shimmering rainbow it left behind._

**

Friday of the second week rolls around. By now, Katara has nearly settled into the routine of the summer. Even the looming shadow Zuko casts over her shoulder has grown familiar. He talks to everyone else. She’s seen him laughing with Aang, helping Toph plant new flowers, even talking with Sokka and Suki like they’ve been friends for years. She witnesses these things from a distance,

“Why don’t you open the pool anymore?”

Katara presses her lips together. He’s asking something else. She can tell. She just can’t figure out exactly what it is. She feels off-balance, on-edge. She folds her arms over her chest like armor and sharpens her gaze into a glare.

“What?”

“You used to open the pool. Last year. You…” He trails off, cheeks tinted with sunset as his voice grows quiet. He almost looks embarrassed. Katara’s eyes narrow even as her heart jumps into her throat. _At least he remembers,_ she thinks. _He remembers._ She still knows him, even if she wishes she didn’t. She doesn’t like the way the thought makes her feel: like she’s at the edge of a wave about to crash into the water below, unafraid, full of joy. She doesn’t want to associate anything good with the boy in front of her.

“You don’t anymore.” He finishes his thought. She’s grateful the pool is between them. Water has never been an obstacle for her. It’s always been a shield.

“You might have everyone else fooled with your nice guy act, but you don’t fool me.” She shoots her words across the water like arrows, hoping to find the chinks in his armor. The look he gives her tells her he isn’t wearing any. Guilt twists in her stomach and she ignores it. She’s being stubborn. She knows it. Deep down, she knows forgiveness is the relief of air conditioning after a long day on the beach, a drastic reprieve that grows more comfortable over time. She knows she doesn’t have to wait for an apology to let go of the anger that’s been simmering inside of her. But Zuko is the kind of person who never has to say sorry, and Katara refuses to let him walk all over her like he’s walked over everyone else. She trusted him once, but what humiliates her more is that she believed he trusted her, too. She never wants to feel that way again.

“I’m not trying to fool you, Katara,” Zuko says. She scoffs. Her throat clouds. She can feel the burning in the corners of her eyes, the embarrassment flushing her cheeks. “I know you don’t trust me, but I’m telling the truth.”

“I’ve heard that before.” She shoots back, glaring at him from across the pool, hoping her sharp look distracts him from the ache in her voice. He lets out a sigh. She’s annoying him. Good.

“You have every right to be upset with me,” he starts, and Katara lets out a laugh. It’s harsh, and it stings him. He blinks, staring at her. She can see his jaw clench, and then release. She wants to rile him up. She wants to goad him, prick him, force him to reveal the arrogant, insufferable rich boy that she knows exists underneath this new, shiny veneer. She wants to fight with him. Fighting is much easier than forgiving. She flexes her hand. The water in the pool begins to rock, and she watches his gaze flicker down at it, then back at her. She arches an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I’m upset with you?” she replies, slowly curling her fingers inward. A thin band of water begins to lift from the pool, swaying like a snake, reaching towards her wrist. “What reason could I possibly have to be upset with you?”

“Katara, don’t.” Zuko says, his eyes following the tendril of water.

“You’re not a guest anymore, Zuko.” She flicks her wrist and slings the water across the pool. He tries to get out of the way, but she’s always been faster, and the water smacks into his chest with a satisfying splash. His jaw drops, and she laughs again.

“That was unnecessary.” His tone is flat, but she can see his jawbone clench once more.

“Was it?” Without hesitating, she snaps another water whip his way. He takes a step to dodge, but she doesn’t give him much time to breathe, taking a step back to counter him. She sends another one, and he steps, and she counters.

“Was that unnecessary?” She calls. He hesitates, and she flicks another stream, this one catching him on the cheek instead of the chest. He sputters, and for a moment, she almost feels bad, but he stops running and plants his feet. She shifts quickly, just barely throwing up a wall of water to stop the flame he’s sent her way. Steam rises as the water falls into the pool, and she glares at him.

“You’re the only one allowed to fight?” He shoots back, matching her glare with one of his own. Finally, the Zuko she’s been waiting for. He looks irritated, which is a welcome change from the forlorn, distant look he’s been sporting the past few weeks. She’s not going to back down now. They counter each other, around the pool once more, and suddenly she’s on the defensive, throwing water up to douse his flames. She spots him grinning. It sparks something deep within her. She lets out a frustrated grunt, sliding her foot forward and throwing her arms up, washing the water out of the pool and over him in a giant wave. He surprises her by diving into the water, crashing through the wave into the pool, swimming quickly towards the shallow end. She skirts around the edge, following him, a series of hand movements causing the water in the pool to buck and crash. He presses forward, only momentarily buffeted backwards, and reaches the shallow end. She’s surprised to see he’s smiling. She lets her guard down for a moment, and he splashes her. No tricks, no bending, just the scoop of his palm along the top of the traitorous pool, splashing her like a child. Her jaw drops. He laughs, the crackling of a hearth, and she can’t help it. It’s a contagious sound. She shifts her weight to splash him back, a gentle _smack_ of water against his face. He wipes a hand over his face, his laughter growing, and she can’t help but let out a giggle, one bubble rising from the ocean of her anger. One turns into two, into four, and soon, they’re both laughing, splashing each other like nothing ever passed between them but loaded looks and quiet moments. Katara finds herself on the second step, the water up to her calves, and Zuko has swam closer, until they’re only apart by a few feet. The laughter fades into silence, the kind heavy with all that goes unsaid, and Katara is looking at him, and he looks like the boy from before, but different. The anger is gone from his face, completely, and she thinks, _this Zuko would make a different choice._

“I asked Iroh to take me off the morning shifts.” Katara says suddenly. “It…didn’t feel right.” He nods, slowly, and she knows he understands her.

“Katara,” he starts, and she shakes her head, softly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Zuko.” She turns, stepping out of the pool. She doesn’t look back, but the water tells her he doesn’t move to follow her. When she gets back to her room, she locks herself in the bathroom and allows herself to cry.

**

_“I’m sorry about Mai.” Katara said quietly, turning her gaze towards the pool. She kicked her feet in the water, slowly, unable to sit still so close to Zuko. It felt strange to be perched on the edge of the pool with him, as if they were lifelong friends and not…whatever they were now. She could feel him shrugging next to her. His ease was almost uncomfortable._ It’s the trust, _she thought, not for the first time._ He trusts me. _The responsibility of it never lightened, but it felt like less of a burden._

_“It’s okay. We weren’t really together.” Katara blinked in surprise, turning to look at him. She felt something catch in her stomach. The sun was just starting to set, and the light streaming through the large windows of the indoor pool were casting everything in a golden hue. He was nearly glowing. Zuko was staring out over the pool, a soft smile warming his whole face, and Katara just looked at him for a second, wanting to commit this image of him to memory. She almost forgot why she’d looked over in the first place, and then –_

_“What do you mean?” She sounded so eager, and she suddenly felt embarrassed, her cheeks flushing warm as she returned her gaze to the pool. She was just curious. He and Mai had been practically inseparable. Their fights were legendary among staff. Sokka and Toph had even started a betting pool last summer to see how many times Mai and Zuko would publicly break it off only to be spotted together a few days later. It surprised Katara to hear Zuko speak of it so lightly. It had seemed so serious at the time._

_“We weren’t really dating. We were just good friends.”_

_Her brow furrowed. Confusion mixed with something unfamiliar in her body. It almost felt like hope. She looked up at him again, but that time, he was staring back at her. The rays of the sun crowned him with a halo of light, but it dimmed his face, leaving his expression nearly unreadable. He was smiling, though, that much she could tell. He wasn’t laughing at her. It tugged at her stomach. He looked away, over the pool, but the smile remained. Katara couldn’t look away._

_“She’s always been a friend of my sister’s. For as long as I can remember, it’s been Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee. Azula was always teasing me for having a crush on Mai. My sister…she has a way of making you believe things you know aren’t true. It got so bad I tried to kiss Mai once. She stopped me.” He paused for a moment, and then let out a quiet laugh. “I was so relieved.”_

_Katara doesn’t know why she is, too._

_“I begged her not to tell Azula. She said if I didn’t, she wouldn’t. So, I didn’t. And she didn’t, either.” He fell quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to the water._

_“It’s always been rare to meet people who weren’t afraid of my sister. It never occurred to me that her friends would stand up to her, even in a small way, like keeping a secret for me. I trusted Mai. We got a little older, and she came to me, to ask me for a favor. She wanted me to pretend to date her._

_She told me that she had a crush on someone, but that Azula wouldn’t be happy about the two of them being together. Mai thought, since Azula teased me so much, her being right would lessen the blow of her friend dating her stupid little brother. It worked. Azula never doubted us for a second, which made it easy for Mai to see the person she actually wanted to be with.”_

_Katara was reeling. She had seen firsthand the influence Azula had over Zuko. She had witnessed the way his sister twisted people with her terrifying gravity. Even Katara, who prided herself on her bravery, had been wary of the woman. Azula carried herself with all the confidence of an earthbender and all the legendary danger of Hama. Katara couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to grow up alongside Azula. It was what made the story so surprising. Zuko had put a lot on the line to help Mai lie to Azula. Katara suddenly realized why the looks he had been giving her had been so unsettling: it was how he used to look at Mai, in their best moments. She didn’t know what it meant. She only knew a threshold had been crossed. She trusted him, too. Katara hesitated, and then reached out, placing her hand over his. She stared straight ahead, her heart beating wildly._

_“It must have been really hard to lie to your sister. It was brave of you.”_

_“It was the right thing to do.” The ease in his voice, combined with the ease of his fingers intertwining with hers, caused her to sit up straighter._

_“We had to be careful. We didn’t want to get caught. Azula is always looking for ways to make me suffer. She respected Mai, but we both knew that wouldn’t be enough if Azula found out we were lying to her. Mai’s a good person. It might be hard to believe that any of us can be, but…she is. And I…I wanted to help her.” He paused._

_“I always told myself that I was better off on my own. For a while, Mai was the only exception.” He squeezed her hand, and a warmth that started in the pit of her stomach spread across her entire body. She gathered boldness like water, wielded it carefully, as if she was closing a wound. She risked a look at him. Her heart stuttered for a moment when their eyes met. A part of her wanted to put up a veil, mask her face with neutrality, but a larger part was tired of treading lightly. She was rarely subtle, or selfish; always earnest, always forthcoming. She wanted to know the truth, and she trusted Zuko to give it to her._

_“Is she still?” Her voice was quiet. The hope was loud._

_“No,” he replied, giving her another one of those rare, inscrutable smiles. She returned it with one of her own, and for a moment, she understood the balance between them. More importantly, she understood him. The water lapped at their ankles, and the sun streamed in through the window, and she thought about opposites, about the pull of the moon, about the warmth of the sun. She realized they were still looking at each other, and she looked away, but the smile on her face remained. She had a feeling his was still there, too. They sat in stillness for a moment. Katara was sure he could hear her heartbeat. It sounded like an ocean in her ears. She tried to focus on one thing at a time: the water around her ankles, the feel of the cool stone under her palm, Zuko’s bare shoulder an inch and a mile away from her own._

_“Let me teach you how to redirect lightning.” His voice cut through to the heart of her. She was filled with a different kind of surprise. It was dreadful, weighted, a dark gray fuzz that lined her veins. She had heard, of course, the rumors about Azula’s cruelty. She had seen the fear in Zuko’s eyes, the hardness in Mai’s face, the way Azula couldn’t walk through a room without making people flinch. Katara had never thought, of course, that that cruelty would be directed at her. Cutting words, sure. A callous glance and a threat to her job, maybe. She imagined it for a moment: lightning passing through her body, electrifying her from the inside. She shuddered. Next to her, Zuko stood, gently tugging her up. He still hadn’t let go of her hand, and it slowly dawned on her why he wanted to teach her. The softness in his gaze had hardened around the edges with fear, and the lines on his face were set in grim determination._

_“Zuko,” Katara started. He shook his head._

_“Katara, please.” He was quiet. He looked down at their hands, and gently turned them over. Something in her flipped, too._

_“I…” He paused. She was aware, suddenly, of all the water in the room._

_“Okay,” she said, matching his volume. They stood there, for a moment, Zuko staring at their hands, Katara staring at the crown of his head, and then he let go, taking a step back. She was sorry for the absence for just a moment, and then she matched his stance._

_“The technique comes from waterbending,” he started, and the two of them practiced, the only sounds their shifting feet and Zuko’s soft instruction. The sun set. Neither one of them noticed._

**

When Katara shows up for the monthly cleaning shift, she’s not surprised to see Zuko. If she didn’t know better, she’d think it an accident, but Suki’s in charge of scheduling. He doesn’t seem entirely surprised to see her, either. He almost looks happy. She tries not to take it personally. She sets her bucket, filled to the brim with cleaning supplies, on top of a poolside table and surveys the room. Normally, she and Suki spend the hours cleaning side-by-side, laughing and chattering through the afternoon. She’s not exactly sure that she’s ready to spend hours side-by-side with Zuko.

“I’ll take this side; you can start over there. We’ll meet in the middle.” She glances over at him to confirm the plan, and she catches him staring at her. He has the decency to blush, and nods, grabbing his own bucket and heading towards the windows. The first hour stretches on for an eternity. The only sounds are the gentle splashing of sponges into buckets, chairs or pots being moved to get to hard-to-reach spaces, the quiet padding of their feet moving across their halves of the room. Occasionally, Katara will glance over her shoulder to check on Zuko’s progress and get stuck studying him. He moves patiently, deliberately, almost tenderly. She allows herself only seconds of glimpses, turning back around before she can get caught. Her mind is buzzing with a thousand thoughts, all of them centering on one single thought.

“Why _are_ you here?”

When she asks the question, they’re nearly finished. They’ve moved around the entire room and have ended up near the deep end of the pool, scrubbing at the floor a few feet away from each other. She’s tired of the quiet that washes between them, the pull he has, like he’s the warm shore and she is the cool tide. Her curiosity has been eating her alive this entire time, and she finally gives in, breaking the silence.

“My father cut me off.” The tone of his voice stops her from retorting – instead, her brow furrows, her lips part, confusion flashing across her face.

“What?” Katara leans back, resting her hands in her lap, the sponge she’d been furiously scrubbing with all but forgotten. Zuko keeps his gaze on the floor where he cleans. She doesn’t press him. She still remembers how he spoke of his father, the way his gaze would lift to the heavens, as if he were pleading with the spirits. His father had meant everything to him. She couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to lose that connection. When he speaks next, his voice is quiet, barely audible in the echoing room.

“He wanted me to follow in his footsteps. And for a while, it was what I wanted, too.” She watches his jaw clench – and almost as quick as it comes, the tension melts from his face, and he’s openly regretful. He lifts a hand to his face, rubbing it across his eyes, and not for the first time, Katara finds herself wondering how a father could show only cruelty to his children, particularly a child as devoted as Zuko. Perhaps, though, devotion wasn’t enough. Her stomach twists with anger at a man she’s never met.

“But I realized the path he was walking wasn’t one I wanted to follow. I had to find my own way.” He pauses for a moment, for an eternity. Katara feels stunned. For so long, Zuko had been the epitome of an entitled and insensitive elitist in her eyes. Once, she’d thought it was all he was capable of being. She isn’t sure she believes that anymore. She studies him from across the pool. She sees none of the arrogance or defensiveness he’d had when they’d first met, nor any of the fear that had consumed him when Azula had arrived. She knows she’d been in this position before, but time has changed him. Time has changed her, too.

As if he could sense her hesitation, he turns to look at her. She feels exposed. His gaze is so _honest_ – free of unnamed hurt, ignored pain, misplaced anger. It unnerves her. His gaze is full of trust. He _trusts_ her. The thought washes over her like cold water, and she’s shocked at the thought, at the reality, at what it means. Hope begins to burn in her chest. It feels heavy with dread. He watches her carefully, and she sees it in his eyes: he’s misreading her. He gives her a wry smile, and she starts shaking her head.

“I know it must be hard to believe. I don’t blame you.”

“No, Zuko,” Katara stumbles into speech, reaching forward, “I believe you.”

Her hand lands on his knee. It startles them both into looking down at her hand, and then slowly, up at each other. She feels foolish. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but he’s being honest. Returning the favor is the least she can do. For a moment, they just sit there, staring. Blue into gold into blue. _Breathe,_ she thinks. _Breathe._

Zuko shifts. He leans forward slightly, that slow draw of the magnetic pull, and before she can stop herself, she’s leaning back. Always countering him. He freezes, and she does, too, her eyes locked onto his face. She can hear the short inhale he takes as his gaze falls to the ground. Her stomach drops. She feels the same way she does when she makes a mistake with bending – impatient, foolish, disappointed. Like she knows she could be better and still falls short. It crashes into her like a wave. It’s a dawning realization happening all at once and too slowly: he was going to kiss her, he wanted to kiss her, he still wants to kiss her, she still wants him to. 

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, reaching for his sponge and tossing it into its bucket. She wants to cut off his apologies, she wants to grab his hand, she wants to melt into the pool. _It’s not supposed to happen like this,_ she thinks, feeling tempest tossed. She hadn’t thought it a possibility. She’s not ready. She’s confused, all over again. She’s suddenly seventeen, kissing Aang because he loved her so much, never really stopping to think if she felt the same or just wanted him to be happy. She’s eighteen, eyes brimming with tears as Zuko – the old Zuko – turned away from her. But she’s also here, now, in the present, watching this Zuko – the one she had believed he was capable of being, once – prove how much he’s changed.

He rises, grabbing the bucket, and she can’t see any anger in his posture, in his grip on the handle or the way he bows to her. He’s staring at her. She can feel it. She can’t lift her eyes off the ground. She’s afraid of what she’ll see in him. She’s afraid of what she’ll do, what she’ll say, what she won’t. She can’t help but feel as if time has changed this, too, as if she’s not meant to get a second chance, here, as if it was all just a dream, a once upon a time – even as her mind is replaying the sight of him leaning forward again and again and again. _Look up,_ she thinks, fear swimming inside her. _Look up._

“I’m sorry. I thought…I understand.” He’s quiet. His tone matches his body language – he is earnest in his regret. There’s nothing manipulative or boyish in his voice. He waits for a moment, for her, and then he turns, walking away. She finally looks up, staring at him as he retreats, begging to get caught, wishing desperately that he’ll turn around, just for a moment, and she’ll find the bravery she needs. He hesitates in the doorway, and she thinks, for a moment, time will change this, too. But he steps through without looking back.

**

_The door to the pool room opened, and Zuko turned, a grin already spreading over his face. He’d barely slept the night before, the sound of Katara’s laugh on the beach playing over and over again. He’d been rehearsing what he wanted to say, what he had wanted to say last night, but couldn’t – cowardice keeping him silent. Not today. Today, he would be brave. He would tell Katara exactly how he felt about her._

_The thought curdled the moment he saw Azula in the doorway. Her suit was immaculately tailored and incredibly expensive, and he knew from the clicking of her heels on the tile that she’d come dressed for a reason. His grin dissolved. His heart stuttered. Azula stood halfway between the door and the pool, taking in her surroundings with pity on her face._

_“For all the time Uncle spends taking care of this place, you’d think it’d look better.” She glanced down at the pool, arching an eyebrow. “What? No hello for your dear sister?”_

_Zuko wanted to slip beneath the water. He wanted to close his eyes and will this nightmare away, but he knew this wasn’t something he could wake up from. He swam to the edge of the pool, not wanting to be caught in a body of water near Azula’s flickering fingers. He stepped out, grabbing a nearby towel, wrapping it around his shoulders._

_“Hello, Azula.” His voice was low. He was studying her, trying to figure out what game she was playing this time. He’d never been able to understand the depths of her cruelty. He dried off as best as he could, never once turning his back to Azula. She watched him, her gaze making him feel as insignificant as the plants shrinking in the corner of the room. He wished he could do the same. “What do you want?”_

_“Why do you always assume I want something? Can’t it be enough to come visit my baby brother in the middle of his vacation?” Azula said_ vacation _like others would say_ funeral. _She glanced him over, wrinkling her nose in disapproval, and he could feel his anger flaring to the forefront._

_“You and I both know you didn’t come by to say hi.” Zuko said, folding the towel and placing it on the edge of a nearby chair. Azula laughed._

_“Look at you. So polite. What happened to you, Zuko? Did you grow soft without me around?”_

_“I’m not soft!” He barked. She laughed._

_“Let’s find out.”_

_Azula’s hand rose high in the air, the familiar blue light making him feel like a child again – scurrying down the halls, associating the sick curve of Azula’s smirk with the twist of dread before the searing heat of her directed flame. Even now, past childhood, Zuko felt his stomach clench, his body freezing as the warmth grew closer to his face. He braced himself for the searing pain but felt only warm mist. He could hear Azula growl, and he opened his eyes to see Katara standing a few feet behind his sister, her feet spread apart in a familiar stance. Azula’s hand was dripping._

_“How dare you interfere,” Azula snarled. All of her attention was on Katara now. Zuko felt his stomach twist with guilty relief. Katara’s face was a blend of authority and disgust. She was the bravest person he’d ever met. Azula flicked her wrist, a flame wrapping around her fist to dry it before she planted it on her hip. Her head tilted. Zuko felt sick. He knew what she was doing even without having to look at her face. Azula always liked to size up her prey._

_“Do you have any idea who I am?” Azula asked, her voice shifting into her practiced, honeyed tone. Katara frowned._

_“I don’t really care who you are. My job is to ensure the guests are safe. What you were about to do was cruel.” Katara paused, taking in the older girl. “Even for you.”_

_“Ah,” Azula sighed. “My reputation proceeds me. Then you know what I’m capable of. I’m almost impressed. I’ve never met anyone as foolish as you.” She began to step towards Katara, and Zuko’s fists clenched._ Run, _he wanted to shout._ Get out of here! _Cowardice crawled into his throat, silencing him again. His sister stepped closer, but Katara stood her ground. She didn’t flinch. He loved her. Azula brushed past her, their shoulders making contact, and Katara took one moment to look at Zuko. He shook his head slightly, trying to warn her, but Katara didn’t listen. She gave him a small smile and turned to face Azula. Zuko was struck._ She trusts me. _He didn’t deserve it, and still, she believed he would have her back._

_“Zuzu, it’s such a shame,” Azula started, turning on her heel so she could stare past Katara, right into Zuko. He dug his nails into his palm. “Stooping so low as to have an insignificant employee step into the middle of family affairs? I thought you’d be better than this by now. That’s what I told Father, anyway.” At the mention of Ozai, Zuko stiffened. Azula smirked._

_“Yes, that’s right. Father sent me. I told him I thought it was about time you joined the family business. It seems I was wrong. What would Father say if he found out you’d aligned yourself with a waterbender?” Azula practically spat the word, her nose wrinkling in disgust. Katara’s shoulders tightened, but she didn’t make any move, just stayed silent and ready. Zuko’s gaze flickered to her. He wanted Katara to look at him. He didn’t want Katara to turn her back on Azula. He wanted to place himself between them. He wanted to stay safe._ It’s not supposed to happen like this, _he thought, frustration growing inside him, masking the fear, the disappointment. He wanted to be brave for Katara. He looked back at Azula and realized his mistake. Azula had always been a quicker study than he._

_“Unless…” Azula’s smile grew. Zuko’s stomach sank. “You haven’t. Maybe she’s just misunderstood you. It happens. I’d hate to have to go back and tell Father that you got yourself tangled up in this fishing net. But I don’t have to. You could remind this girl of her place beneath you, and you and I can go tell Father together how ready you are to take your place at his side.” She stared at him, her smile curling into a full grin. Katara’s fists clenched, and Azula laughed._

_“Go on, Zuzu. Tell her the truth.”_

_Katara turned her head to look at him. She smiled. He wished she hadn’t. Katara was beautiful, and brave, and kind. Zuko was a coward. Sooner or later, he would disappoint her. It seemed only right to have it happen now, before he could make her promises he’d only end up breaking. He studied her face. He wanted to remember what it looked like when Katara believed in him. He didn’t think he’d ever see it again. When he walked past her, he could hear her breath get caught in her throat, the way it did when she talked about her mother, when she spoke of loss. He curled his fists tighter. Working alongside his father was what he always wanted. Even if he had momentarily set it aside, replaced that dream with a softer one, one that held Katara’s laugh under the stars and in the morning and every afternoon. Soft dreams were for people with honor._

_“I belong by my father’s side. Not yours.” His voice was weak. He risked a glance at her. Her stance hadn’t shifted, and his heart sank. She was still on the defensive._

_“You don’t have to do this.” Katara said quietly. Her eyes were welling with tears. His irritation with himself flared in his chest. He was always ruining things._

_“What do you know about what I have to do? You don’t know me!” Zuko’s voice rose. Azula chuckled._

_“There’s no need to yell at the poor thing, Zuzu.” Azula lifted her hand, staring at her nails with a carefully cultivated air of boredom. She looked over at Katara, pity coloring her delicate features. “You’ll have to excuse my brother. Such a temper.” She tutted, letting out another sigh. “Still. I’m glad we cleared that up.” Her gaze sharpened._

_“He’ll never be one of you.” With a flick of her wrist, Azula lit one of the plants on fire._

_“Oops. Better take care of that. C’mon, Zuzu. We’re leaving.” She turned on her heel, strolling towards the exit. Katara stared at Zuko for one endless, impossible moment. He turned away before he could see her cry._

**

Katara is laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, when the knock on her door comes. She wants to pretend like she isn’t there, let whoever is knocking move on with their night, and stay wallowing in peace, but whoever is knocking is persistent.

“Let us in! It’s an emergency!” Toph’s voice on the other side of the door is enough to get Katara’s heart racing. _Emergency?_ She thinks, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and moving across the room. She’s running through the possibilities – Sokka’s been hurt, something’s on fire, Azula is back – and she swings the door open to find Toph and Suki waiting for her on the other side.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Katara says, looking between the two of them.

“It’s you,” Suki says, holding up one of the resort’s clear totes. From the contents, Katara gathers that they’ve raided the kitchen and the spa.

“You’ve been moping around all weekend. I can hear the stomping from across the resort,” Toph says, easily slipping past Katara and flopping onto her bed.

“We’re having an emergency girls’ night.” Suki declares, and Katara shakes her head, but steps aside. She knows it’s impossible to argue with Suki and Toph once they’ve made up their mind, and if she’s being honest with herself, she’s grateful for their presence. A pity party of one is only fun for so long. She closes the door behind Suki and lets herself get swept up in the whirlwind of her friends: Suki, expertly placing a sheet mask on each of their faces; Toph, tossing firechips into her mouth; the two of them fussing over Katara in a way that makes her feel loved rather than burdened. The guilt, doubt, and heavy sadness that have been resting in her chest since _the incident_ are starting to lighten, and as the hours pass, she finds herself smiling more than she has all summer. She’s leaning against the headboard, her hands resting delicately on the tops of her thighs, watching Suki paint Toph’s nails with a detailed precision. She almost misses the way Suki taps against Toph’s palm, but before she can draw attention to what is obviously a signal, Toph turns her face in Katara’s general direction. 

“So, sugar queen, what happened with Zuko?” Toph blinks in an attempt to look naïve, but she’s never been particularly skilled at playing innocent. Katara arches an eyebrow in Suki’s direction, but the older girl has become very interested in the design of Toph’s nails. Katara lets out a sigh.

“I don’t know.” Katara shrugs, pressing her lips together and glancing down at her hands. She pictures Zuko’s face, again, how she’d imagined it must have looked after she’d rejected him.

“That bad, huh?” Toph asks.

“It’s confusing!” Katara protests, tossing her hands up in the air. “I thought he was this huge jerk who I’d never see again, and now he’s – _apologizing,_ and being _nice,_ and hanging out with all my friends!”

“He _is_ hanging out with Aang and Sokka right now,” Toph offers. Katara gestures wildly, and Suki finally pipes up.

“Iroh says he’s undergone a huge transformation,” Suki says, shrugging when Katara looks over in surprise, adding, “we talk.”

Katara lets out a huff. She’s frustrated – she doesn’t want to admit it to herself, but all signs point to her being right on this. Zuko has changed. He walked away from the family members that tormented him for so long to come back and work with his uncle. She doesn’t want to go so far as to believe he came back to make amends with her – the thought fills her with the dangerous kind of hope. His face, leaning in towards her, swims in her memory. Something in her stomach tightens. She’s overwhelmed with possibility. She tells them everything, from the beginning, and it feels cathartic to lay it all out. By the time she reaches the end, Suki and Toph are enraptured, and Katara realizes she’s nearly crying.

“Katara,” Toph says, her usually mischievous expression settling into a more pointed one, “what are you afraid of?”

“I…guess I’m afraid to be wrong about him again,” Katara starts. Her nose wrinkles, and she shakes her head slightly. “No, it’s not quite that. It’s…” She trails off in thought, trying to find the right words.

“You’re afraid to be right about him,” Suki says. Katara looks over to find the older girl staring back empathetically. Suki smiles, her face softening with memory. “Before Sokka and I got together, I found myself so annoyed with him. I thought it was just because he was immature, but I realized that wasn’t it. I was annoyed because I wanted him to be better, because I knew he was capable of being better. The worst part was that it was something he was going to have to do on his own. I could nudge him in the right direction, but ultimately, it was going to have to be his choice. It’s hard when the people we love are getting in their own way.” When Suki says _love_ , Katara’s heart skips a beat, and she can tell her friends have noticed. To their credit, they don’t tease her about it -- not even Toph -- and she feels, not for the first time, grateful. Her hand unconsciously moves to her necklace, and she smiles. Suki continues.

“Once Sokka was able to mature a little, it paved the way for us. It was a little scary at first, because I liked him so much, but I’m glad I took the risk.” Suki smiles, shrugging slightly. Katara glances over at Toph, who has a small smile on her face.

“I’m really glad the two of you are so happy together,” Toph says. Katara is warmed by the genuine joy in Toph’s voice – and once again, she’s reminded of how much they’ve all grown up. Suki smiles, her face warm with adoration and love. She looks over at Katara with a knowing smile.

“Ultimately, Katara, it’s up to you. But I think this is a risk worth taking.” Suki says, reaching over and placing her hand over Katara’s. Katara smiles, flipping her hand so she can squeeze Suki’s.

“And if he messes up again, we’ll kick his ass.” Toph says. The three of them burst into laughter, and Katara feels endlessly buoyant, floating on this new wave of joy and relief. For the first time all summer, Katara allows herself to hope.

**

It doesn’t take much convincing to get Suki to adjust the schedule. Katara takes a day to herself, to prepare, but come Monday morning, her alarm goes off before the sun rises, and Katara is on her way to open the pool. If all went according to plan, Zuko will be, too.

When she arrives at the pool, she slides the key into the lock and pulls it open. She’s the first one there, and the thought brings her equal amounts anxiety and calm. She doesn’t wait for the anxiety to take over and begins going through the motions of opening the pool. Work has always grounded her. She tries not to think of the time passing, tries not to give into the thoughts that run through the back of her brain like ghosts: _what if he doesn’t show up? what if he doesn’t want to see me again? what if I’m wrong? what if I’m right?_

Katara emerges from the locker room, a pile of towels in her arms, and spots him walking through the doorway. Her heart stops, her breath catches, she smiles, she flushes, she wishes she weren’t carrying so many towels. He freezes in the doorway.

“Hi,” she calls out, making her way over to the towel rack, turning away from him just for a moment. She places the towels down and spread her hands over the top, taking comfort in the plush nature of the terrycloth. _Take the risk,_ she thinks, and turns. He’s moved further into the room but is still a respectful distance away. He’s turned towards her, but his gaze is lowered, and the air between them crackles. She exhales slowly and takes a few steps towards him. She opens her mouth to speak, but he has the same idea, and their voices collide clumsily in the space between them.

“I think we should--”

“Katara, I’m so--”

She chuckles nervously, and he sheepishly smiles, lifting one hand to the back of his neck. Silence falls between them, again, and Katara can’t stand it any longer.

“I forgive you.” Relief floods her. The immense weight of her anger, her fear, melts from her shoulders, and she finds she can meet his gaze so easily. His face is filling with surprise, but she also recognizes the hope that lights in his eyes, and it tugs the corners of her mouth upwards. He begins to smile, cautiously, and she keeps talking, the words like a waterfall rushing joyously towards the lake below. “I wanted to talk to you all weekend – all summer – but I was afraid what would happen when I did. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Not of you. And not of…the way that I feel about you. Or of the way I think you feel about me.”

“Katara,” he starts, but she shakes her head and holds up a hand. He doesn’t fight her. She could kiss him. She might.

“I won’t hide. I won’t lie to our friends,” _our friends,_ she thinks, _how strange,_ “or your family – not even if you think it’ll keep me safe.” She can see his mouth twitch, and she knows he’s thinking of Azula. She has, too, but in the new light of the future, Azula doesn’t seem so scary. “I’m on your side, and you’re on mine.”

The look on Zuko’s face rivals the sun. He says nothing, just crosses the room and catches her face, so gently, tenderly, in his hands. She can’t quite catch her breath. She brings her left hand up, placing it over his, and leans into his palm. He stares at her like she hung the moon, like she is the moon, a celestial being, a wondrous miracle. It’s nice. Her face grows warm as he studies her, carefully, but she remains patient. Some things, people have to decide on their own.

“Sokka told me if I ever made you cry again, he’d take great joy in beating me up,” he says, his voice quiet, as if he’s afraid to wake from a dream. She smiles, shaking her head ever so slightly, overwhelmed with emotion. “I told him he’d have to get in line behind you.”

She laughs, and his face splits into a beautiful grin, the sunrise over the shoreline. He keeps his voice quiet as he holds her, studies her, smiles bright and warm at her.

“When I left, I was so sure I was walking in the right direction. I was wrong. Walking away from you is never the right direction for me.” He looks her in the eyes, serious for a moment. “I’m on your side, and you’re on mine.”

She isn’t sure who leans in first, but this time, there’s no countering. When they kiss, it feels like the triumphant crashing of a wave returning to the great depths of its home.


End file.
